Scars

Opportunity

His hand was gentle as he wrote over the delicate white sheet of paper. His fingers swirling with every letter he wrote. The noise of the classroom disappearing as he wrote his essay for the day.

Zeke's mind was filled with complex words and long sentences. Too long and too complex for the essay he was writing at the moment. It was a practice essay for their project they had to do on real life journalist, this would help them get in the mindset of them and write a short story based on what they would do if they were in their shoes. Zeke still didn't know what journalist he wanted to write about, but that didn't matter, this was a practice essay, an essay asking for Zeke's opinion on journalism. An essay with his complex thoughts, an essay he needed to finish in less than five minuets. But for Zeke that wasn't a problem, after all he was gonna be an English major in a few months.

Once Zeke was done, he placed his pencil to the side of his paper and looked over the essay. He wanted to make sure the words flowed out in ease. He wanted to make sure it made sense and that he didn't make any little mistakes.

That was just Zeke, a perfectionist,. Everything had to be just right. If He had to blame anyone for his perfectionism it would probably be his father. He would always make Zeke do everything over again if something was off. But Zeke would also have to thank him when it came to his writing skills.

His father may have been a hard man on him, but it lead to Zeke being an amazing writer. Whenever Zeke had an essay due, he would go to his father and he would review it, make him redo it until it was perfect.

He would say "A person can only achieve their goals with hard practice and greater skills". His father was right. Zeke would always come home with straight A's and perfect scores in English class.

It stuck with him through out the years. He would always think about his fathers words when it came to writing and would redo his essays over and over again until satisfied.

To his luck, the essay in front of him was perfect. All the sentences he wanted were neatly composed on the white paper, just how he wanted it.

Harry's thoughts were soon interrupted when the bell rang. He placed all his supplies in the bag and walked down to hand in his essay, but as was about to leave the classroom his teacher called for him. "Mr. styles" he called out "may I have a word with you?" Mr. Joannes, Harry's English teacher, asked. His expression was gentle and he held a small smile on his face. So why was Harry so nervous ? Maybe it was because he had never been called by a teacher after class, he wasn't the type to have 'after class convos' which teachers that mostly lead to an unpleasant comment from the teacher. Harry was a good kid and always will be, he was the type that people would call 'teachers pet'. Of course Harry didn't see himself like that, he was the type that got what he wanted. He was very ambitious and stubborn, but yet... that never lead to conflicts in schools. He mostly kept to himself, and he liked it that way.

Harry held his bag tight and nodded, gently walking over to the mans desk. His mind filled with questions of why Mr. Joannes wanted to talk to him. He hadn't done anything bad ... Has he? Harry scanned his mind for recent occurrences of the things he did in class to see if he had done anything wrong to make Mr. Joannes have a word with Harry. But nothing came up.

Yet, Harry's nerves were kicking in, making his foot shake and his fingers fiddle with his bags zipper. He needed to keep calm.

There is nothing to worry about, Harry said to himself mostly to calm his nerves down.

Mr. Joannes pulled out some papers from his desks drawer and placed them neatly on his desk, just in front of Harry.

"The reason I asked you to stay after class for a little bit was because, I have a proposition for you" Mr Joannes said looking at Harry with a larger smile than he had before. This allowed the older mans wrinkles to be more visible.

"A proposition? What do you mean?" Harry asked looking at him completely confused. He took a glance at the papers in the mans desk hoping he could find his answer in them and make this small convo more clear, and to an end. It was his lunch brake and he was starving. If he wasn't in trouble than why was his time being wasted with a proposition? Harry liked getting to his goals by himself with no help. He wanted to be independent and wanted to feel satisfied with his work, the work he achieved, with no help at all.

"It's a school competition, here at Kingston" the man started to explain, but Harry had already lost interested when he had said the words "school and competitions" ironically both right after each other in one sentence. Harry wasn't fond of school competitions, no matter what they were, Harry didn't find them interesting at all. He hates the idea of putting your hard work out there just so that random people from your school could judge it in various ways and give you a stupid sticker that said 'good job!' With a stupid smiley face on the side. He wanted his work to have meaning! He wanted it to reach out to people, to speak out to them, Not just be another entry in some school competitions.

But those feelings started back when he was in elementary through middle school, back when he wasn't as confident with his writing skills, he was in college now, he is better at writing and is more confident. But that still didn't change his mindset, and he already knew what he was going to say to Mr. Joannes.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Mr. Joannes quickly interrupted "I'll give you extra credit in your project for the journalist essay! How's 40 extra point?!" The man said ecstatically, almost sounding like he wanted to buy the boys writing skills for his own good.

Harry sighed and looked at him timidly, almost feeling bad that his favourite teacher was bribing him into signing up for the competition. But Mr. Joannes took in the boys expression and knew he had to do something before he lost his best writer.

"Look Harry, this opportunity won't only help the program here, but it can help you as well... I mean you want to be an English major right? And you want to become a Novelist?" He asked pushing his glasses back.

Harry only nodded hearing the man out... well he really didn't have a choice, it's not like he could get up and walk away.

"This can help you out so much when your applying for jobs. people will not only see a young man with great writing skills, but a man who has experience in professional writing. You will be hired right away! And you won't be seen as a rookie... trust me I know Harry" Mr. Joannes picked up the papers from his desk staking them neatly and handing them to Harry "just think about it, and get back to me with your final Decision, okay?"

Harry cleared his throat leaning in to grab the stack of papers. He took in the mans words for a minute. Maybe getting a little help wouldn't hurt, this was his last year of college so maybe having some professional experience can do good for him, he would defiantly read over the papers once he was back at his dorm.

Harry gave him a small nod smiling " yeah okay I'll give it a look and see... thank you" Harry placed the papers in his bag and stood up smiling "see you tomorrow" he heard a small goodbye as he walked out of the class and headed to the lunch room.

He needed to clear his mind and get some food in his system. That was his main goal for the day, the rest can wait.

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Louis will not be introduced into the story until chapter three or four, please be patient and see these chapters as more of a background story for the motive of the fic. thank you :)

special thanks to kaelyn for editing the story! you're amazing !